Delta Green - страница 38

Reading over Macklin’s shoulder and across the line of data at the top of the screen, McKenna noted the four hundred-mile range setting and the direction of the antenna — to the space station’s west, the normal inbound track for HoneyBees. The oscillating sweep left six blips behind as it flip-flopped back and forth. Each of the blips was identified in small white letters and numerals. He read them quickly.

“I see five satellites in lower orbit and one HoneyBee,” he said. “What’s the status, Joe?”

“She’s three hundred and sixty miles out, Colonel, altitude one-eighty, and closing on us at ten miles a minute. In sixteen minutes, she’s scheduled to reduce speed to a five-mile-a-minute closure rate.”

McKenna scanned the screen once again. “So where’s the bogie?”

“It’s not showing now, sir. I picked it up when it was radiating radar emissions.”

“So it’s got to be Delta Green.” The stealth aerospace fighters were only visible to other radars when they were utilizing their own radars.

“The pilot will be an ex-Soviet,” Pearson said.

McKenna glanced at her.

“Pyotr Volontov’s report said that six of the men he washed out of his Mako training program defected. It’ll be one of them,” she said.

“Good work, Amy.”

She blushed. She was beginning to take his compliments as compliments, rather than as cute ways to put her down.

“And,” McKenna went on, “we’re fresh out of MakoSharks. Damn it!”

“There!” Macklin said.

McKenna saw the radiation pattern appear on the screen, a pulsating “V” erupting out of nowhere, but capturing the resupply rocket in its path.

“Lock it in, Joe.”

Tapping the computer keyboard, Macklin said, “Position locked. The emissions are low, Colonel. About a ninety-mile scan. I put him eighty miles from intercept.”

“Where’s Autry?” McKenna asked.

“He was chasing down a Rhyolite satellite for service,” Overton said.

Macklin worked the controller that changed the direction of the radar antenna, raising it a fraction. Two more blips appeared. He tapped in a command, and the blips grew tags — the satellite was identified, as well as Mako Three.

“Altitude two-four-seven,” Macklin said. “Two hundred and seventy miles out.”

McKenna picked up the microphone stuck to the console top with Velcro.

“Give me a frequency, Val,” he ordered.

Arguento pulled himself into the radio shack, and a few seconds later, his voice came through the bulkhead speakers. “He’s on Utility Two, sir.”

Along the top of the console were keypads for selecting primary-use communications channels. McKenna poked his finger at Utility Two. “Mako Three, Alpha.”

“Alpha, Three.”

“Ken, this is McKenna. Kick your radar to one-twenty and see if you can pick up an in-coming HoneyBee.”

“Roger that, Alpha,” Dennis Bogard, Kenneth Autry’s backseater, replied.

McKenna waited.

“Alpha, the rocket’s about seventy miles below us. Total track from us is one-five-five miles.”

“Divert from your mission and close on the HoneyBee,” McKenna ordered. “Stay about forty miles away.”

“Roger, diverting,” Autry said. “What’s the problem, Alpha?”

“She may be under attack. Watch yourself, Ken. The unidentified hostile is probably armed.”

“And stealthy?” Bogard asked.

“And stealthy. Don’t take any chances, but see if you can get a visual”

“Roger, Alpha.”

McKenna punched Tac Two.

“Deltas, Alpha.”

“Delta Yellow,” Conover came back.

“Red,” Haggar said.

“Fuel status?”

“Yellow’s got one-six minutes on rockets, twenty minutes on turbojets,” Abrams reported.

“Red,” Ben Olsen said, “one-three on rockets, one-eight on the jets.”

He briefed them on the situation. “We don’t know what’s coming down, but I want you ready to take intercept positions if we can track Green on an Earth-bound course.”

“Yellow here. Any idea, Snake Eyes, of a destination?”

“None, Con Man. Take a general aim toward the Andaman Sea.”

“Roger, Delta Yellow out.”

“Red.”

McKenna had been watching the screen, and the radar emission had again ceased to display.

“Is that wise, Colonel McKenna?” Pearson asked. “To put Mako Three in jeopardy?”

McKenna felt good about Autry’s sense of judgment. He said, “Don’t second-guess me, Amy.”